Radio
The clowns are running the circus
The show is run of the mill
They've picked all the berries that grew on blueberry hill
The shameless and the appalling
Have sunk things to a new low
What has become of the world that we used to know
Did I dream it
What I mean is, I could've swore it had a soul
I could hear it, sat right near it
Back when my whole world was the radio
Time was when people could move you
With just a voice and a song
I wish all those hacks would go back to where they belong
The daydream had to make way for
The nightmare that was to be
Where grace and beauty are hung and buried at sea
Did I dream it
What I mean is, I could've swore it had a soul
I could hear it, sat right near it
Back when my whole world was the radio
Even though the writing's on the wall
It's through rose-coloured glasses I recall
That golden age
I'm beholden everyday...
Did I dream it
What I mean is, I could've swore it had a soul
I could hear it, sat right near it
Back when my whole world was the radio
The clowns are running the circus
The show is run of the mill
They've picked all the berries that grew on blueberry hill
The show is run of the mill
They've picked all the berries that grew on blueberry hill
The shameless and the appalling
Have sunk things to a new low
What has become of the world that we used to know
Did I dream it
What I mean is, I could've swore it had a soul
I could hear it, sat right near it
Back when my whole world was the radio
Time was when people could move you
With just a voice and a song
I wish all those hacks would go back to where they belong
The daydream had to make way for
The nightmare that was to be
Where grace and beauty are hung and buried at sea
Did I dream it
What I mean is, I could've swore it had a soul
I could hear it, sat right near it
Back when my whole world was the radio
Even though the writing's on the wall
It's through rose-coloured glasses I recall
That golden age
I'm beholden everyday...
Did I dream it
What I mean is, I could've swore it had a soul
I could hear it, sat right near it
Back when my whole world was the radio
The clowns are running the circus
The show is run of the mill
They've picked all the berries that grew on blueberry hill
Credits
Writer(s): Ron Sexsmith
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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